Like Everybody Else
by smolbean17
Summary: "You'll be just like everybody else." "What's so wrong with that?" Well, everything actually.
1. chapter 1

_**"You'll be just like everybody else." "What's so wrong with that?" Well, everything actually. In which Peter's body doesn't react so well to losing his Celestial abilities.**_

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The sobs that tore through Peter's body didn't even register in his mind as he and Yondu floated through the endless abyss of space.

His mind didn't register the tractor beam that pulled them into the Elector.

His mind didn't register his friends running up to him and his mentor - no, his father's motionless body.

His mind didn't register as they spoke to him, questioning him, shaking him when he didn't respond.

His mind didn't register the dull ache forming in his chest, his head, his soul.

No, Peter Quill's mind couldn't register anything at the moment. So he let his body do the talking and promptly passed out.

* * *

The moment Peter and Yondu entered the ship, Gamora knew something was wrong.

She and the rest of the Guardians came rushing forward, kneeling down beside the two men. Peter was on his knees staring ahead at nothing, his hands clutched in the lapels of Yondu's leather coat. His eyes were void, vacant. They glanced down at the Centaurian and immediately knew why.

Gamora's heart dropped.

"Peter?" She reached a hesitant hand out to the half-Terran. Or was he a full Terran now? She didn't know.

When he didn't answer, she looked to the other Guardians. They solemnly hung their heads, unsure of how to proceed.

"Peter?" She turned back to him, resting her hand on his shoulder. "Peter, I'm so sorry."

He didn't answer. He didn't move.

"Peter," she said more clearly this time. "Peter, let's get you fixed up. Then we can take care of Yondu."

No response.

"What ails our friend? Is he injured?" Drax asked, voice softer than Gamora had ever heard.

Her eyes scoured Peter's body up and down, searching for any sign of injury. Other than a few scapes and bruises, she couldn't see anything. But something was definitely wrong.

"Peter. Peter! Answer me." She was growing frantic. Her mind racing over all the possibilities of what could be wrong. What if Ego did something to him before he left the planet? What if the mind control still held him in its grasp? What if-

"Peter?" She shook him harder. Rocket intervened.

"Gamora, he can't hear us. I think he's in shock-"

"Something's wrong. Peter, can you hear me?" She shook him again, harder this time. "Peter, please-"

But her words were cut short as his eyes rolled back into his skull and he fell limp to the ground.

Gamora swore, immediately bringing two fingers to his neck. His heart was beating strong. His breathing normal. Mantis moved forward, placing her delicate hands on his head.

"He is only sleeping." She said softly, dark eyes shimmering.

"Probably exhausted from the fight with his asshole of a dad. And with... well..." Rocket paused, the knowledge of what he was going to say hanging heavy in the air. The tension was suffocating.

Footsteps echoed in the halls.

"Where's tha cap'n?" Kraglin came walking in, Nebula following suit. "What 'appened?" He stopped short, his eyes resting on the body of his former commander.

"No." He whispered, tears springing to his eyes. He rushed forward, falling to his knees. Harsh cries wracked his frame as his forehead fell to his chest. He brought his hand up into a fist over his heart.

No one was sure what to say or do. The day had been so entirely overwhelming for all of them. Especially Peter. They had just taken out an entire living planet. That same planet having been Peter's own father. In that same day, Peter discovered his unlimited, cosmic powers, only to have them stripped from him mere hours later. He was forced to kill his blood father. And then watch as his actual father froze to death in front of him. Needless to say. It was turning out to be a pretty bad day for Peter Quill.

"Come, let's leave him to his mourning" Draw said, motioning to Kraglin. "Quill needs us now." He reached down and hoisted their fallen leader up and into his arms. "While he rests we can begin the burial processes for Udonta."

They slowly trickled out of the room after Drax. The Destroyer carefully laid the human out on his bed. Gamora found a raggedy old blanket on the floor, and draped it over his unconscious form. She ran her fingers through his hair. "It's alright, Peter. We're here for you. We'll help you get through this. Together."

"I am Groot!" The tiny tree intoned from his perch on Rocket's shoulder.

"Yeah, you're right," Rocket replied, gruffly. "The stupid kid's stronger than he looks."

They all silently agreed.

"Nebula." Gamora called to her sister, who stood silently at the door. "Set course for Xandar."

"There's no way I'm going to Xandar."

"We need to refuel and repair damages to the ship. And all of us, even you, need medical attention."

Nebula grit her teeth, turning angrily on her heel towards the control room. Gamora silently admitted to herself that it was foolish to think her sister would actually stay with them as a team. She looked down at Peter, thinking of all he had recently lost, and silently vowed to herself that she would try to make things right with Nebula before she left.

"Let's let him sleep. He needs it. We'll get Yondu prepared before he wakes up."

One by one, they slowly, sadly filtered out of the room.

And Peter slept.

And as Peter slept, the pain in his chest and head and soul grew.

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 _ **I hope you liked it! PLEASE review if you get the chance! It really means so much to me:) Also, if you're wondering, yes this is a multi-chapter h/c fic, that should span over the course of a few weeks (for the Guardians) If you have any questions, concerns, ideas, prompts, whatever, hmu, In short, the effects of Peter losing his powers and immortality don't go well for our favorite Terran.**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you everyone SO much for the reviews and support! It really helps keep this story going! I will be updating more often, so sorry for the delay. More to come soon!**

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Gamora found Peter sitting on his bed listening to his new music device from Yondu, staring ahead at nothing. His hazel eyes were glazed over, red and puffy from old tears. The funeral had ended only a few hours before. All of them were still pretty shaken.

Peter ended up being alright after his little incident, much to everyones' relief. He slept over 10 hours after passing out in the docking hall. In that time, the other Guardians spent time watching over him, dressing his minor scrapes and bruises, and preparing for Yondu's funeral.

The words Peter spoke over his father's body still resonated in Gamora's mind as she came closer.

"How are you doing, Peter?" She asked.

He startled out of his reverie. "Oh, hey Gamora. 'M fine. Just listening to some tunes." He smlled softly, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

She sat down next to him on the bed. "You're lying." She was firm, but kind.

"Naw. Really I'm fine!" He smiled, bigger this time. "Just tired is all. A lot to think about. But really I'm fine." He took her hand, squeezing it slightly as if to reassure her. Although the gesture made heat rise to her face, it wasn't convincing.

"What have you been thinking about?" She ventured. Peter was usually incredibly open and, quite frankly, obnoxious about his feelings. But when it came to the deeper side of those emotions, he shut himself away. Although she wasn't entirely sure of where they stood in their relationship, she felt it her responsibility to help him to open up.

"I don't know. Just stuff, I guess."

"Peter… you know you can talk to me." She implored, placing her other hand on top of his.

"Yeah." He looked away, "Just thinking about Yondu, and life and all that. Regrets."

"What regrets?"

He sighed, closing his eyes. "Things left unsaid."

Gamora remained silent, rubbing his hand with her thumb as if to persuade him to continue.

"I just, I feel like such a screw up."

"What do you mean?

"I never told him. How I felt. How much he meant to me. And now," he laughed bitterly, "and now he'll never know."

He stood up, walking towards the front window of his room

"I never even told my mom…" his voice broke, and he folded his arms. "I guess I just suck at goodbyes."

Gamora's heart ached for him. She stood and walked over to him. She spotted a new track of tears running down his face, which he hastily tried to wipe away. She let out a short breath of air.

"I never had the chance to tell my family how I felt. Not before Thanos took everything from me." She whispered, staring into the billions of colorful stars and cosmos shining ahead. Peter turned to her, face lined with concern. "It bothered me for a long time. I found myself wishing to turn back time. To tell them all how much I loved them." She sighed. "Eventually I realized that I had no need to tell them. They already knew."

She placed a gentle hand on his back, running it up and down. "They already knew, Peter."

He looked down, swallowing. Gamora reached her hand up to his face, turning him toward her.

"They already _know_. She traced her thumb across his cheek, catching a tear and whisking it away. "And we all know too."

"Thank you." He whispered. He melted into her embrace.

She smiled, burying her head into his shoulder. They stood like that for several minutes, the tension in Peter's body fading away with every passing second.

As they pulled away, Gamora frowned. "What's this?" Her fingers touched his neck, and came away bloodstained. Her eyes bore into his, begging for an answer.

"What? Oh, must've been from the fight." He cupped his hand around the shallow wound. "Doesn't hurt."

"That wasn't there when we cleaned you up yesterday." She retorted.

"Oh, well, I don't know? Maybe I cut it shaving."

Gamora wasn't thrilled with the answer, but she let it slide, knowing he needed a break from prying questions. "Well, whenever you feel ready, come down and we'll get you patched up. Again." Her words softened. "Just… whenever you're ready. We'll be waiting." She squeezed his arm, and left the room.

He followed her movement until the door slid close. Hand still on his neck, Peter walked into the bathroom. He turned on the lights and faced the mirror. As he took his hand away, blood streamed down his neck and into the collar of his shirt. He quickly grabbed a towel, pressing it into the wound.

"Weird." He said to himself. As he pulled the towel away, more bright red liquid trailed down. "Geez, would ya stop already?" He returned the towel to his neck, wincing. "Stupid blood."

He opened the bathroom drawers, rummaging around until his found a roll of gauze and tape. He folded and cut the gauze into a thick square, and roughly taped it to his skin over the wound. He stripped off his jacket and bloody t-shirt. There really was no reason to worry his friends even more.

And Gamora didn't need to know he hadn't shaved once since the whole Ego incident.

Or that the pain from his bleeding neck began to grow.

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 **Things are really gonna start escalating next chapter, so turn on those notifications, and if you have the chance, leave a review! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Super quick update! Hope you enjoy!**

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Peter wasn't feeling so hot.

He switched his bloodied shirt out for a new one, throwing the old in the dusty corner of his room. As he turned to the door, he was immediately hit with a nauseating dizzy spell.

"Woah." He muttered.

He braced his hand against the wall, trying to regain his balance. Black spots littered his vision, and he found it hard to draw air into his lungs. His hands and knees shook. He was sure he was going to pass out.

But as quickly as the awful feelings came on, they left. And Peter felt better. Almost perfect, actually.

"Uh, what the hell?" He asked the universe. Couldn't he catch a break? This last week sure had taken him through a whirlwind. All he wanted to do was sit on his pilot's seat and fly. Where, he didn't know. And he didn't care. He just wanted to fly and forget.

He ruled out his dizziness to hunger. Yeah. That's it. He was hungry. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten.

As he walked into the main room, his friends stood up, forced smiles plastered on their faces. Except for Kraglin. He still looked about ready to bawl any minute.

"There he is. Finally, want somthin' ta eat, Quill?" Rocket said, "Drax made your favorite." The raccoon held up a steaming bowl of purple, meaty soup.

He laughed, "Aw you guys! Thanks! I'm starved." He took the bowl, and shoveled the bubbly stew hungrily into his mouth. He paused when he noticed everyone staring.

"What's up?" He asked, wiping purple off his lips.

"Gamora told us you began to bleed profusely from your neck." Drax said.

"I am Groot!" He clearly sounded upset.

"Oh yeah, cut it shaving. It happens. Fixed it, see?" He tapped the gauze on his neck. "No big deal." He spooned more stew into his mouth.

Rocket and Gamora shared a look.

"Whatever," the halfword creature mumbled, "We got a job to do, we gotta report to Nova Corps."

Peter's heart sank. He really didn't feel like taking on some menial task set forth by the Corps. He'd much rather go to Timor or someplace warm and relax.

"To Xandar then?" He put his bowl down onto the table, moving towards where the ship was set on autopilot.

"Actually, Pete," Kraglin said, voice shaking. "Was wonderin' if you could take me back t' Berhert, if ya could. I figure the rest of tha crew deserves themselves a proper Ravager funeral."

Peter's heart sunk at the thought of Yondu's crew, floating endlessly in space. Although many of them weren't too kind to him while he was growing up, he knew that they were loyal to Yondu, until the very end. They deserved proper funerals. "Course Kraglin," he pat the First Mate's shoulder. Peter smirked when the older man smiled softly back. He'd miss Kraglin. They became somewhat close over the years as Peter grew. He always thought of Kraglin as the bigger brother he never had.

"How 'bout you drop us off at Xandar? I'm sure Nova Corps will give us a new ship." Peter said, soul tugging sadly at the thought of never piloting the Milano again. But he put on a smile. Like he always did. "After that, the Elector is yours, Krag. Or should I say 'Captain Kraglin'?"

Kraglin's face split into a huge grin. "Really?"

"Yeah! Yondu would want you to have her."

"Oh, thanks Pete!" The older man enveloped the Terran into a bone crushing hug, new tears pricking his eyes. Peter barked out a short laugh.

"Of course."

He was glad someone like Kraglin would be taking charge of the Elector. Yondu loved that ship.

Kraglin would make a fine Captain.

They arrived at Xandar without any setbacks, save for Kraglin's tearful goodbye, hugging and sobbing into Peter's shoulder. Peter even found himself shedding a few tears himself. With that, the Elector was gone.

They waited in the main hall for their mission instructions, each standing in respect as they heard the sharp tap of Nova Prime's heels strike the marble floors. Denarian Day followed closely behind her.

"Thank you for coming, Guardians." the woman said, voice echoing strongly through the halls. "It looks like you've added someone new to the team." She smiled warmly at Mantis, whose eyes widened at the acknowledgement. "Nova Prime, welcome to Xandar."

Mantis grinned widely, unfamiliar with such kindness from someone of high authority. "Mantis. My name, that is. I am Mantis." She stuttered, grin still plastered all over her face. "Pleasure to meet you!"

Nova Prime smiled, eyes scanning over the other Guardians. "I'm sorry to call on you after all that has happened as of late," Her gaze lingered on Peter. He shifted uncomfortably "But we need your help. Outside sources have alerted us of unease in the Capella system, on the planet Moord." She turned to Denarian Day, who came forward.

"We've learned that the Expansion Ego tried to initiate has affected not only Xandar, but hundreds of planets. And those are only the ones we know about. There could be hundreds, if not thousands more planets affected."

Peter stared hard at the floor, gritting his teeth.

"Cities have been demolished, thousands have died, and many are without food and shelter." The Xandarian man continued.

Gamora took Peter's hand, which began to tremble with anger.

"We need your help. Starting with Moord." Dey tapped on the hologram control panel, a green planet strikingly similar to Earth appearing. "As you know, the Badoon government maintains strict gender segregation. Male and Female Badoons live in completely separate societies." He sighed. "Unfortunately, due to their inability to get along, each society thinks the other responsible for the destruction brought on by the Expansion. That's where you come in." He turned to the Guardians.

"The Badoon people are annihilating each other." Nova Prime intoned. "We need you to help them see the truth, and put a stop to any deniers. Before their war spreads to other planets, as it has in the past."

"And how exactly do you think they'll react when they find out it was actually my fault?" Peter said angrily.

"It wasn't your fault Peter," Gamora began, exasperation in her voice.

"She's correct," Nova Prime said, "and they will have no need to know of your connection to Ego or the Expansion."

He fisted his hands, unhappy with the answer. How could he lie to an entire people, and tell them that Ego did it all, when in reality he was the human battery that enabled the destruction of thousands?

"So when do we head out?" Rocket asked, impatient. As per usual.

"Immediately," Dey said, "But you all need to remember to uphold the law, respect the Brotherhood. Also, the Queen doesn't like it when…" The Xandarian continued, but Peter didn't listen. The back of his head began to tingle and sting. He reached his hand back, running his hand through his hair near the source. His fingers came back red.

He quickly stuffed his hand in the pockets of his leather jacket, darting his eyes around the room to make sure no one had seen.

"Quill, are you even listen- whoa, you okay?" Dey questioned.

"What?" Peter raised his eyebrows and bit his lower lip.

"You look kinda pale." Dey said.

"Come again?"

"You look—"

"What now?"

"I said—"

"Who brought the French Fries?"

"Peter!" Gamora spat, slapping his arm. He looked at her, exaggerated hurt on his face.

"You _are_ pretty white. Pasty. A bit gross looking too."

"Shut up Rocket."

"I am Groot!" The baby tree shouted.

"Pshh, no I'm not. Just these damn bright lights. Everyone looks pale. Even Gamora looks less greenish than she usually does." He retorted, trying to keep his voice level.

"No, our friends are correct in their observations. You are whiter than the snows of Contraxia during their Winter Solstice." Drax said, matter of factly.

"Really though guys." He was getting tired of this. "I'm fine! Right as rain."

"I have never witnessed any form of condensation preferring a direction—"

"Metaphor ya idiot." Rocket growled.

"….okay…. Well if we're ready then, lets get you geared up and ready to go?" Dey looked to Nova Prime, who gave him a curt nod.

They filed out of the room, Dey filling them in on any other information they might've needed to know.

As Peter passed by Nova Prime, she put a hand in front of his chest, stopping him. "When you return, I wish to run some medical tests. Precautionary. Just to make sure you've had no adverse affects following everything that has transpired. You are the only of your kind after all." Her eyes pierced into his, and her voice became quiet. "No one blames you for what happened. It was completely beyond your control."

"That's the problem." Peter said, stepping away from her to follow after his friends.

He felt the blood on his head trickle down. He didn't stop it.

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 **That stuff about the Badoon people is actually a part of the Marvel universe, I just changed up the facts a little bit! I love how deep the Marvel universe is, it's so interesting. Anyways, I know I told you a lot would be going down in this chapter, but I decided to flesh out the details a little bit more, but you can be sure that things escalate a TON in the next chapter! So keep your eyes open! Let me know what you thought!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I am the WORST! So sorry for keeping you guys waiting so long! This chapter is SUPER short, but I really didn't want to leave you hanging any longer! Next chapter will be up in a couple days! And it will be much longer!**

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 _Peter felt himself floating, an eerie sense of disembodiment flooded his system. The only thing he could see was the vast expanse of space stretching out before him. Stars and cosmos flitted in and out of his vision. Blues, greens, reds. He delved further in. He could see people. Trillions upon trillions of people. Different races, species, families. It was magnificent. Beautiful. An ethereal power seemed to overcome him. The entire universe at his fingertips. Deep in his mind he knew, that with the flick of his wrist, it could all be destroyed._

 _He smiled._

 _"What greater meaning can life possibly have to offer?"_

 _Suddenly, that power grew. It grew and grew until Peter could feel nothing else but surging power. It glowed deep violet. It showed him worlds crumbling, falling at his very gaze. People screaming, dying. He didn't like this power anymore._

 _Then came the pain. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It went beyond physical, beyond even emotional. It burned every fiber of his being until there was nothing left. Nothing but that violet, bright light. It destroyed everything. He destroyed everything. And he could do nothing to stop it._

 _"Peter, this is the sea."_

 _He screamed._

* * *

"Quill!"

Peter jolted up, gasping for air. His eyes wildly darted around, his chest heaving up and down. Sweat plastered his body.

"What in the hell was that?" Rocket stood at the side of his bed, bewilderment in his beady eyes.

Peter forced his breathing to return to a normal rate, and settled on his forearms. "Just a bad dream," he breathed.

Rocket eyed him cynically. "Must've been one hell of a dream." When he received no answer from the breathless Terran, he continued, "Time to get up a-hole, we're almost there."

The Terran nodded, and removed his covers to swing his legs over the bed. Vertigo like none other almost took his breath away. Almost. Like hell he'd let Rocket see one of his episodes.

"Hurry up! Moord is just a few clicks away." Rocket's tail swished as he left the room.

Peter centered himself and moved to stand. He swayed on his feet, head pounding.

"Great," he mumbled, shuffling to the bathroom. He gazed in the mirror at his pallid face. He craned his neck to the side. The bandages were soaked through with blood. He felt the back of his head. More red. He stretched down his shirt, eyes resting on his collar bone. Another bloody wound was beginning to form. The same size as the others.

"What in the effity-eff is happening to me?" He had never seen anything like this before. He was drained, dizzy, and bleeding from random holes in his body. He felt a subtle itch form at his left temple. He rubbed the spot, grinding his teeth when he felt how tender the skin was. That itching tenderness was how all the other wounds began. "If I have to go to the doctor for this man, I'm gonna lose my sh-"

"Peter! Time to go! Hurry!" Gamora's voice echoed through the halls.

"Coming!" he yelled back, jumping on one leg as he tried to get his pants on. He rummaged through his drawers and hastily applied a gauze patch to his collar bone, and switched out the other bloody bandages. He depended on the team not noticing.

Which they didn't, much to his relief. They all stood, geared up and ready to dock at the Badoon city center.

"So what's the plan?" Rocket questioned, his oversized blaster over his shoulder.

"Get in, explain what happened, make sure these people don't kill each other, get out." Peter said, hoping that the optimism he forced into his voice was convincing.

"Huh. Seems easy enough." Rocket said.

"It's not that easy," Gamora cut in. "They have already initiated a full out war. We have to get to their leaders. If they aren't dead already."

"I have been to this planet before, many years ago." Drax's deep voice rumbled, "They are a hideous and extremely violent people. Everyone fights their wars. Including women and children."

Peter winced. "Yikes. If Drax thinks they're violent, then..."

"We're screwed." Rocket ran a paw down his face.

"Maybe we should rethink this 'plan' Peter." Gamora said.

Peter huffed, exasperated. "Yeah, well, we don't really have that much time. For all we know the battlefield is on its way here right now."

"You can't just expect us to go out there, guns blazing, with zero percent of a plan-"

An abrupt explosion cut off Rocket's tirade. The Milano lurched to the side, knocking the Guardians harshly to the floor.

Mantis yelped, "We're being attacked!"

"I am Groot!" the baby tree accused as Gamora gently helped him onto his feet.

"How was I supposed to know!" Rocket raised his hands in the air, "Star Munch is just a good guesser."

"We need to move." Gamora got to her feet, Groot standing on her shoulder. Rocket smirked, his blaster thrumming with energy. Mantis stood, dark eyes wide and uncertain.

"Wait," Drax said. "Quill?" He stepped forward cautiously when the human made no move to stand.

Peter was laying on his belly, cradling his head in his hands. He tried propping himself up on trembling elbows. "'M okay." he muttered, scooting gingerly into a sitting position.

"D'ast idiot. You're bleeding." Rocket swore.

"Peter, your head." Gamora reached out to touch the weeping wound on his left temple. He waved her hand away.

"Just bonked it against the wall. I'm fine." To prove his point, he jumped to his feet, only to sway dangerously to the left.

Gamora caught him just in time. "No, you're not." She scanned his face.

Wars cries and explosions grew louder outside. "Nothin' we can do about it, we gotta go." Peter shook his head and ran for the door, blasters in hand. The other Guardians followed warily after.

Gamora gritted her teeth, and told herself to ignore her sinking suspicion that Peter was in fact, not okay. But she couldn't. She knew injuries in and out. And Peter's was far too deep and far to red to be a simple impact wound.

"I am Groot?" the little tree whispered in her ear.

"I'm not sure, Groot. But our job is to keep an eye on him." Groot nodded, and Gamora ran out into the fray.

* * *

 **There ya go! Let me know what you think! I know I've been drawing Peter's situation out soooo long, but it'll be worth it! Your comments are seriously the only things keeping this going, so comment away! Thanks guys!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chaos reigned. The moment the Guardians stepped foot outside, the sounds of screaming and explosions intensified exponentially.

Green, reptilian people were absolutely destroying each other. It was hard to tell the males from the females, the children from the adults. The bodies just meshed together in a tangle of gun blasts, fists, and gore.

"Holy..." Peter whispered, taking in the sight before him. His head throbbed, and he could feel the sticky blood dry on the side of his face. But he knew he couldn't waste any time.

"There's nothing we can do here, we have to find the leaders!" He shouted over to his team. Their eyes were wide with the shock of what they were witnessing.

They ran towards the edge of a dense jungle, where the battle seemed to thin slightly. Their ship exploded into flames behind them.

"Looks like we're stuck here." Rocket said, running full force towards the jungle.

The Guardians were surprised that none of the Badoon people targeted them. It was as if they couldn't even see them. They we're too involved in their own battle. The team zigzagged through the fray almost effortlessly, until they went deeper into the foliage.

They only stopped when the sounds began to die down, each breathing heavily from their frantic run. The jungle was thick. Deep green leaves covered large trees. Brightly colored insects buzzed around. Some of them definitely had to be poisonous, their vibrant bodies screaming 'don't touch me, I'll kill you.' The humidity was overwhelming. All-in-all, it was a pretty crappy situation they'd found themselves in.

Peter put his hand out against a tree, chest heaving from exhertion. His lungs ached. "Everyone okay? Where's Groot, is he," he paused to take in more beloved air. "is he okay?"

"I am Groot!" the baby tree came out from behind Gamora's thick locks of hair. He looked scared, but otherwise unharmed.

"C'mere." Peter reached out his hand, and Groot jumped onto it, holding tightly onto the Terran's thumb. Peter moved the little tree to his shoulder, cradling him. He slowly lowered himself onto the ground.

"How's that thick skull of yours?" Rocket asked, noticing the sheen of blood on Quill's head and face.

"Good. Just a bit lightheaded from the run." That was an understatement. "And damn if it's hot here. We'll rest just a couple more minutes." Peter squinted his eyes up at the bright sun that shone through the canopy above. "Think you can go up there and take a look around? See what we're dealing with?"

Rocket nodded, and scampered quickly up the closest tree, careful not to poke himself with the many small needles that covered its exterior.

Drax sat on a felled tree, and began to meticulously sharpen his knives. Mantis stood nearby, eyes dark and concerned as ever.

Gamora sat down next to Peter. His face was tense, his eyes half lidded. His hand rested gently atop Groot's small form. He looked ill.

"No more lying to me, Peter Quill. Tell me what's wrong with you, or I'll make you." Gamora's voice took on a dangerous tone. Peter didn't doubt she'd keep her word.

He sighed, straightening slightly. He reached down with one hand, picking up rocks from the ground. "I don't really know. I've just felt... off since Ego. I can't really explain it." He purposefully left out the part about him bleeding and almost fainting.

"Like what?" She said, lightening her tone.

"Just tired. Drained, I guess. Makes sense, 'cuz that's what he did. Drained me." He fiddled nervously with the rocks. He really didn't want to be having this conversation.

"Do you think it has anything to do with losing your immortality?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I think more than anything it's because I was used as a human battery, forced to watch thousands of people die because of me." His voice was flat, eyes dull. But there was an unmistakable trace of anger behind his words.

"Peter..."

"Don't tell me it wasn't my fault. Because it was." His jaw tensed. "It was all my fault. I could've stopped him earlier. But I didn't. And now all those people are suffering because of me."

"You had no idea how to summon those powers. It was all so new to you. It took Ego ages to even-"

"He killed my mom."

Gamora paused, ice filling her veins. "...What?"

"He killed her. Gave her an incurable disease. I watched her get weaker and weaker for months. And she loved him. Thought he was some damn angel." He threw the rocks angrily towards a nearby tree.

Gamora was speechless. She couldn't even fathom what Peter was feeling. He'd suffered far more than humanly possible in less than a week. The anger she felt towards his sadistic father tripled.

"I-" she began, only to be cut off by a rustling above.

"They're coming! We have to move further into the trees, or else we're gonna get roasted!" Rocket scrambled down from the trees, eyes wide.

"Dammit all to hell." Peter pushed himself off from the ground, hands holding Groot tightly. "Run!"

They pumped their legs as fast as they could, branches snapping violently against their faces. Mantis tripped several times before Drax finally swooped her up into his arms. The sounds of war rang out behind them.

They ran for what seemed like eternity, until Peter stumbled, falling harshly to the ground. He twisted around just in time to ensure he didn't squish Groot. Gamora skidded to a halt.

"Take him." Peter wheezed, holding Groot out into Gamora's hands. More blood streaked down from his head, his neck, his upper chest. He was pale as a ghost.

"Oh Peter..." Gamora stuck the little tree into her belt, urging him to hold on, before reaching down and hoisting her ailing friend up. She pulled his arm around her shoulder. Worry filled her as he slumped against her, his eyes fluttering, failing to stay open.

"Tired." He muttered. "'M sorry, 'Mora."

"Keep going Peter, we're almost there." She urged,

forcing him to bear weight on his legs. He nodded languidly.

And they ran.

 **Next update coming super soon!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Longer chapter this time! Hope you enjoy!**

Peter ran, Groot safely wrapped in his hand. Exhaustion was threatening to overtake him, and his chest felt like it was about to burst. The bandages began to unstick from his skin as he bolted. He couldn't tell the difference between his sweat and his blood as he felt it run down his body.

A tree whipped him harshly in the face, leaving a shallow scar across his cheek, and causing him to momentarily lose his balance. But he had to keep going. Groot was counting on him. His friends were counting on him. How could he help them if he was captured or killed by the approaching armies?

They ran forever, and Peter could feel consciousness quickly escaping his grasp. A root caught under his foot and he stumbled, falling to the ground. He was grateful he had enough wit about him to twist to the side to avoid crushing Groot.

He grunted in pain at the impact. When he opened his eyes, all he could see was darkness. He heard footsteps stop beside him. He was sure he was going to die. The Guardians would leave him, and he would be torn to shreds by the Badoons. But he would never let any of his teammates suffer the same fate. He held out the little Flora in his hand.

"Take him." He whispered. Bile rose up in his throat.

"Oh, Peter..." Gamora. He wished she didn't have to see him this way, before he died. But at least she and Groot and the others would be safe.

Suddenly, he felt arms reach down and hoist him up, throwing his arms around their shoulders. He had no energy to tell her just to leave him.

"Tired," he mustered. "'M sorry, 'Mora."

"Keep going Peter, we're almost there." Her voice sounded distant, but he nodded anyway.

They ran, or rather stumbled, for several more minutes until they came into a quiet clearing. They had just barely evaded the onslaught.

Drax plopped Mantis onto the ground, hands on his knees, panting. Rocket came over to stand by Gamora, who gently lowered Peter down into a sitting position.

The half-Terran blinked his eyes, relieved to find that he could see again. The pain ebbed slightly. His energy seemed to miraculously restore itself a bit. At least for now.

"Alright humie, what's the problem now-" Rocket stopped when he saw the blood streaking Peter's upper body.

"Gods, did you get hit?"

Peter closed his eyes, his hand pressed firmly against his sternum. "I don't know." He muttered. His legs trembled slightly.

"These aren't blaster wounds..." Gamora ran a finger under the bleeding hole over his collar bone. He winced as she gently pressed on his flesh. "These are puncture wounds." She thought back to the night in his room, his bleeding neck. Then it hit her.

"How long have you been hiding this from us?!" She spat angrily, pushing off and up from him with her hand. She didn't care that he was injured. She was pissed.

"Hiding what-"

"Don't you _dare_ play stupid with me! You've been slowly withering away, _bleeding,_ and you didn't think to _tell us?!?"_ She was seething. The other Guardians stood around awkwardly, eyes wide.

"Gamora, I-"

"How foolish can you be?! Do you not understand that we, your teammates, deserve to know these things?"

"I understand, but-"

"We _care_ about you, Peter! But if you think that you can just deflect every single time something happens to you, then you obviously must not feel the same way!"

Silence fell upon the group.

Hurt flashed through Peter's eyes. "Of course I care about you guys." He whispered.

Gamora immediately regretted her words. "Peter, I-"

"It's okay," he forced a smile, shifting painfully on the ground. "I get it. I should've told you. I just... I don't know what this is. Something happened back on Ego. I honestly don't know what's wrong with me." He looked at the ground.

Gamora knelt back down again, her brow was furrowed in worry.

"...yeah... so... what's going on?" Rocket's voice broke the tension that hung heavy in the air.

"I am confused as well. Will someone elaborate?" Drax intoned.

"Just some all around crappy stuff." He tried getting to his feet, only to drop straight onto his ass.

"Cut the bullshit Quill. What's the matter?" Rocket folded his arms, and Groot scrambled to stand atop his furry shoulder.

"I'm sure Quill would be less than enthused to cut into somebody's fecal matter."

Peter snorted, happy to feel at least 57 percent better than he did 10 minutes ago. He wondered how long his relief would last. He surmised that he only had about 7 hours of reprieve before he'd be falling flat on his face again. At least, that's how long it took in between his sessions of fatigue the last time.

"Why are you bleeding?" Gamora's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

He sighed, "Honestly? I don't know. It started the day after everything went down." He glanced up at Gamora. "These weird... cuts just started showing up all over. And I get really tired and dizzy. But as quickly as it comes, it goes."

"Is it a type of Terran disease?" Mantis implored.

"Not that I know of, no."

Gamora stepped forward. "And Celestials-?"

"I doubt it." Peter cut her off sharply. He looked up at her and his face softened. "Look, whatever it is, what can we do about it?" He raised his eyebrows. "We're stuck here in the middle of a jungle, an army on our tails. We still have a mission to do. We can't just sit around and wait for me to have another episode." He rose carefully to his feet, wobbling ever so slightly. "So let's get going. I'm sure we can find some Badoon dissenters somewhere around here. Maybe they can help us find one of the leaders so we can finally get off this hellhole."

"Well let's at least get all that blood off you, the smell is terrible." Rocket wrinkled his nose.

He complied, albeit with reluctance. Gamora led him to a tree stump, knapsack in hand. She pulled out a rag and a large flask. "Help me get bandages ready." She said to Rocket, handing him the bag.

"Got any tape?" Rocket smirked as he rustled through the pockets.

Peter returned the smile, "This time we should."

"Take off your shirt." Gamora said, voice flat. But Peter would be lying if he said he didn't see the faintest glimmer of fascination in her eyes.

Rocket snickered.

Peter couldn't hide the blush that rushed onto his face. Well, actually. He could. The blood hid it just fine.

He shrugged off his Ravager jacket, and reached down to pull off his light gray shirt. He winced as the action tugged at his injuries, but managed to take it off on his own.

The Guardians couldn't stifle their sounds of dismay as the full extent of his wounds was revealed to them.

There were several puncture marks. Two on his temples, two on his neck, and two just below his collarbone. Each spaced out evenly on either side of his body. Each the same diameter in size. And each letting down a slow stream of blood.

"What the..." Rocket whispered. He'd never seen anything like it.

"Peter, what-"

"Like I said, they just showed up." He responded before Gamora could finish her thought.

"It's as if they were put there on purpose." Drax said, blue eyes wide at the sight of his friend.

"They do not appear to be insect bites." Mantis said softly.

"No, those are way too far apart."

"I am Groot."

Peter felt uncomfortable at all the stares. "Could we, uh..."

Gamora snapped out of her gaze. "Yes." She said shortly. "Let's get this done. The sooner the better."

She poured water from the flask onto the rag in her hand, and carefully began to clean the blood from Peter's face. She felt relief when she saw that there were hardly any other wounds, save for the scratch on his cheek. But the puncture wounds on each side of his temples were too deep for her liking.

"Hand me the blood clotter." Gamora said to Rocket, who handed her a small syringe filled with yellow fluid. "This will sting."

She carefully injected the liquid to the side of each injury. Peter grimaced. Rocket handed her a thin, translucent colored bandage, which she carefully taped to his skin. Upon application, it was nearly invisible. Then she moved to his tend his neck, then his upper chest, injecting the clotter and applying the bandages each time.

"Um, I think there're a couple on the back of my head too..." Peter said, biting his lip.

"There are." Drax said, standing behind Quill for a better look. "They're just like the others.

Gamora's heart clenched. But she remained silent and moved to tend the back of his head. She tried to clean the blood from his hair the best that she could, but it was dried and matted in his curly locks.

She stepped back, sighing. Peter was still pale. Not as much as he was almost an hour ago. But it wasn't reassuring.

"How do you feel?" She asked.

"Fine. All things considering." The corner of his lips turned up in a half-smile.

"Put this on," she tossed him a clean shirt. "Let's move on. Find a place to camp for the night."

The Guardians of the Galaxy continued on their way.

Peter couldn't help but notice the tenderness begin in the middle of his chest.

 **Things are really gonna start speeding up here!! Can any of you guess what's happening to Peter?**

 **I went and rewrote a few paragraphs in the previous chapters, just to make it flow more and make more sense. Added some dialogue too if you're interested in reading! Let me know what you think!**


	7. Chapter 7

Peter slapped his hand against his cheek, smushing the mosquito-type insect that bit him.

"This place blows. There's not a single bar. No hot ladies," he winked when Gamora shot him a glare, "and why does it have to be SO HUMID?" He wiped his brow with the back of his wrist.

They had been walking for a couple hours now in search for a safe place to camp at night. And Peter, ever the optimist, was trying to keep the cheer despite his own tiredness and stinging injuries. Plus, he was getting sick of all the worried glances that were sent his way. He figured his pointless chatter would keep them from thinking about his "problem." He was fine. At least for the time being.

He found himself wondering why his symptoms of exhaustion and pain kept fluctuating. He wondered why they would come full force, bringing him to his knees, only to quickly flicker down and die out to a dull buzz. He hoped his next bout of misery would hold out for awhile, so they could at least make camp.

"How you feeling, Munch-Lord?" Quill looked down to see Rocket wringing out his tail, nose crinkling in disgust when drops of water dripped from the fur.

"Good. You know, I'd actually feel a lot better if you gave me some of those coco flakes or whatever you call 'em."

"Karoflax. Yeah, no way. These are my last ones, and who knows when we'll be back in the Keystone Quadrant again. Plus I ain't forgettin' the fact you ate all 'a mine last - what are you doing?"

"What?" Peter said over the mouthful of Karoflax he'd just stolen, "Sorry, couldn't hear you. 'S crunchy."

"Why you little-" Rocket fisted his little paws and looked prepared to jump on the human, before Gamora stopped them.

"Hush," she stepped forward, hand at the sword on her hip. "Something's coming."

Rocket's ears flitted back against his head, and Groot nestled closer into Drax's neck.

"Whoever it is, I can sense they do not have kind intentions." Mantis whispered.

"Hide," Peter said, motioning frantically with his arms to a thick underbrush nearby.

They hunkered down beneath the foliage, and waited with bated breath.

Heavy footfalls fell on the ground before them. Several large, green reptilian people emerged from the trees. They were tall and muscular, and their arms were incredibly long, reaching past their knees. But what grabbed Peter's attention the most was the arsenal of dangerous looking weaponry at their disposal.

"We must keep moving," the one who seemed to be the leader commanded. His voice was deep and sounded like gravel.

Peter found himself wondering why a group of male Badoon were wondering around by themselves, away from the fight. From what he knew, the people of Moord sought after battle any chance they had. But these... maybe these were the dissenters they were hoping to find.

It wasn't a risk Peter was keen on taking.

He tried to settle the debate in his mind, when one of the more ugly Badoon spoke, "Do you smell that?" He rasped, a grin forming on his distorted face, "Blood."

Peter's heart dropped.

The leader raised his head, nostrils flaring. "Whatever species it is has never traversed our lands before." He stepped forward, looking around. His eyes narrowed as he looked into the brush the Guardians were hiding in. They didn't breathe.

Suddenly, his long scaly arm reached into the leaves and pulled Rocket out by his scruff.

There was a flurry of movement as the Guardians leapt from their hiding place, weapons pointed at the group of Badoon.

"You flarkin' bastard, let me down!" Rocket growled, snapping his teeth and squirming in his captor's hold.

"Put him down now, and we won't kill you." Peter's blasters were aimed directly at the leader, vibrating with energy.

The creature smiled. "And who might you be?"

"We're people you really don't wanna mess with," his finger itched to pull the trigger.

The leader studied each of them carefully, yellow eyes piercing, yet highly intelligent. Peter couldn't help but feel a sense of recognition as those eyes looked him up and down. The creature smiled.

He set Rocket down gently on the ground, who scurried towards his team. He found his gun, and charged it up before aiming directly at the alien's head.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't blow your head off right now." Rocket growled.

The leader held up his hands in a placating manner. "We mean you no harm. We are in the midst of a war, you see. We must show caution when encountering strangers in our land." He stepped forward, extending his hand to Peter, "Czar-Doon. My pleasure."

Peter glanced from the hand up to Czar-Doon's face. Why was that name so familiar?

"It's been a long time, young Peter Quill."

Peter's eyes widened, "You..."

"Former crew member under Ravager Captain Yondu Udonta, at your service." He pulled his hand back, and gave a curt nod of his head. That off-setting smile was still plastered on his face.

"How..?" Peter was flabbergasted.

"I was there the day Yondu fetched you from Terra. Only shortly thereafter I left to pursue my own path," his voice softened, "I heard about what happened to the dear Captain. I am truly sorry."

Peter's mouth opened and closed. He vaguely remembered the creature standing before him. At the time Peter was so new to the world beyond Earth. He was more concerned about not getting eaten than some quiet Badoon. He could hardly recall Czar-Doon even leaving.

"Allow me to introduce you to my new crew," he motioned with his hand to the particularly fearsome looking Badoon that sniffed them out. "This is L'Matto, my right hand." The alien smirked, jagged yellow teeth peeking out between thin lips. "And this is Droom, Drang, and Yur." The last one he introduced seemed to still be in his adolescence. He looked to the ground shyly.

"Why'd you leave?" Peter asked, unsure of what to think.

"Well, most likely for the same reason that you left," Czar-Doon said, "I wanted to go my own way, find my own team. I've made many... interesting acquaintances over the years, as I'm sure you have. There were no hard feelings between Udonta and I when I left."

"Then why are you here, now, on your war torn planet?" Gamora intoned, her sword still hovering in front of her.

"We no longer associate with the Brotherhood of Moord. We simply came here to salvage a precious artifact before these heathens destroy it in their pathetic war." He said with obvious disgust. The other Badoon nodded their heads. "Now might I ask, why are you here, young Quill?"

Gamora spoke for him, "We are on a mission to relay important information to the leaders of Moord. Our business is our own."

"Fair enough," Czar-Doon nodded. "I might be able to help you in this venture. I do not have access to the leaders themselves, but I do know the locations of their secret outposts, as I was once an army General myself."

"What have you to gain from helping us?" Drax moved forward, his knives gleaming in the dying sunlight.

"Nothing, to be completely honest with you. The royal outposts are on the way to our next destination. It would be no trouble for us to assist an old friend."

"How do I know we can trust you?" Peter questioned.

"You don't. But I understand you are running low on options. I am offering you safe passage. As soon as we arrive, we will part ways. But that, my friend, is up to you."

The Guardians looked to Peter. He didn't like the idea of relying on others to complete a mission. But Czar-Doon was right. They were out of options. They had no ship, no way to escape the planet. They had absolutely no direction. And it would be only hours until Peter had another one of his episodes. As much as it hurt his pride to admit it, there was no other choice.

"Fine," he said, lowering his blasters. The Guardians followed suit. "But if you try to pull anything, we will kill you."

Czar-Doon smiled, "Understood. You take much after Yondu. I'm sure he would be very proud."

Peter felt a pang of sadness, but quickly pushed it away. He nodded to his team, and they followed the newcomers into the trees.

He couldn't get that smile out of his head.


	8. Chapter 8

"So, Peter Quill. How long have you been injured?"

Czar-Doon's voice broke Peter out of his reverie as they treaded through the forest in search of a safe place to camp for the night.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just some scrapes."

"I see," the Badoon didn't seem convinced. "Once we arrive at camp, young Yur here can help tend you, if you'd like." The reptilian teen stepped forward, raising his hand hastily. He refused to make eye contact. He seemed to have spotted something incredibly interesting on the murky ground.

"Really, it's fine." Peter brushed it off. It was enough already having four people worried about him. He didn't need to add a bunch of randos to the party.

"As you wish," Czar-Doon replied.

They walked silently. Drax was secretly sizing himself up to L'Matto, widening his stance and puffing his chest. While Drax easily dwarfed L'Matto in muscle mass, the ugly Badoon compensated in height.

Mantis kept pace with the group, her hands clasped in front of her. She scanned the ground for any cute little creatures. There were so many on this planet. Her search helped distract her from the fear bubbling within her.

Rocket shuffled along, less than thrilled with the whole situation. The back of his neck still ached from being manhandled by the stupid alien. He was sure it would bruise. He didn't trust them. Not one bit.

Groot sat happily on Rocket's shoulder, pointing at colorful insects as they fluttered by. He was smiling, kicking his legs and completely oblivious to everything going on around him.

Gamora felt unease the moment they set foot on this planet, and it seemed to only grow the longer they were there. These newcomers weren't helping. But she figured if Peter trusted them, she'd calm herself. Only a fraction. But that didn't keep her from watching their every move.

Peter was racking his brain, trying to remember anything he possibly could about Czar-Doon. His memories of his first few years in space were so distant. He mostly retained memories of Yondu and Kraglin. The rest - the teasings, threats and beatings - those he tried to filter out.

After a while, he decided to give up. His head was starting to throb and his muscles ached horribly from walking for so long. He worried that his body was going to betray him earlier than he thought.

"How are you feeling?" Gamora whispered quietly beside him. Her eyes were pools of worry and uncertainty.

"Tired," he said truthfully. He knew she wouldn't believe him if he said otherwise. "Hoping we get there soon."

"Me too," she caught the ends of his fingers in hers, and offered the smallest of squeezes. He smiled at the contact. He wished it would happen more often.

The sun slowly began to set, and blood sucking insects came out to prey on the weary travelers. They seemed to love Rocket especially.

"These D'AST BUGS!" He growled, slapping all over his body in one sudden burst of frustration. "When in the HELL are we gonna set camp?! We've been walking for hours!"

"I am Groot!" The sapling agreed.

"We've just arrived," Czar-Doon smiled, parting the large leaves ahead of him to reveal an awe-inspiring clearing. Glowing flies lit the soft green grass. A small stream ran down glossy black rocks into a crystal clear pool. Best of all, it was completely surrounded by thick trees. If they were quiet, no one would find them.

Peter sighed, excited for some uninhibited rest. He walked over to a large rock, slinging off his knapsack and sitting down. His body rejoiced. He fished out his Zune from the bag, unraveling the ear pieces.

"I can help clean your scratches if you want," the words came in a barely a whisper from behind. It was the young Badoon kid. Yum? Yoo? Maybe Yur? Yes, Yur sounded right.

"Oh, naw that's fine. My friends took care of it for me earlier." He gave a friendly smile, slipping the buds into his ears. Fleetwood Mac filled his head.

The teen nodded, still staring at the ground, and walked away. Weird kid.

The group quickly set up camp, gathering firewood and unrolling blankets. Soon Guardians and Dissenters alike sat around a toasty fire, enjoying some dry rations, and somewhat awkward conversation.

"How many people have you killed?" Drax asked abruptly, directing his question to L'Matto and the two brothers. Drang and Droom.

"That's not a question you just ask someone, Drax," Peter shook his head.

"I want to know. How many lives have been ended by their hand?" His clear blue eyes flashed with excitement, "Many have been felled by my blades."

Drang and Droom looked at each other. "Lots." Drang said, his speech slow. So not the brightest of the group then.

"Probably not as many as I have," Drax mumbled, almost imperceptible.

Gamora rolled her eyes.

"I am Groot!"

"Woah! No one needs to know how many people you've killed." Rocket exclaimed, sticking a finger in front of the little tree's mouth before he revealed even more shocking information.

"So what's our plan?" Beautiful Gamora, always getting down to business. Peter didn't know if it was the heat or his exhaustion that made him all dopey over her, but right now she was mesmerizing. Not that she wasn't always mesmerizing. 'Cuz she was.

"We leave at the light of dawn, and travel East. We should arrive to the outposts before nightfall tomorrow. We will lead you to the edge where you can negotiate as you need." Czar-Doon said, stirring some milky liquid over the fire, "From there, we'll be on our way. But for now, we rest."

The ex-Badoon general ladled the steamy liquid into small cups, handing them to each Guardian. "The people of Moord used to drink this tea to help ward off poisonous mosquitos and the like. The scent drives insects away. This should protect you throughout the night."

Peter took the cup graciously, "What about you guys?" He asked when he noticed that Czar-Doon didn't serve any to his crew.

"Oh, we have no need." He adjusted himself on his log. "Through years of living on Moord, our bodies learn to adapt."

Peter shrugged, taking a sip of the warm tea. It was delicious. It tasted like milk and honey, with just a hint of some kind of berry. It made his body surge with a lovely golden warmth. He would definitely need the recipe for this.

"This is wonderful, thank you," Gamora said, taking another sip.

"Man, that's the best damn drink I've had since Grasmonian Whiskey." Rocket said, the milky substance dribbling down his whiskers.

Mantis and Groot nodded excitedly.

Even Drax seemed to agree, as he downed the entire drink in one gulp.

"Can we have more?" Peter asked, feeling much like a child, holding his cup out eagerly for more of the delicious tea.

Czar-Doon chuckled. "That should be more than enough." He gathered up the little cups. The Guardians grumbled unhappily.

Peter noticed Drang and Droom snickering on the other side of the fire pit. Czar-Doon shot them a quick look, and they looked down, ashamed. Yur appeared to be even more uncomfortable than before, if that was even possible.

A deep yawn interrupted his thoughts, and he covered his gaping mouth with his hand. "Tired," he mumbled. Gamora nodded at him, her eyes lidded as she slumped down against her log. Rocket curled up in front of the fire, Groot in the nook of his elbow.

"Yes, it is quite late," he heard distantly, but he couldn't form a reply before he tumbled off his rock and the world turned dark.

Peter tried to open his eyes, but everything was hazy and way too bright. His head was pounding, and his chest felt constricted, like he couldn't get enough air. He vaguely wondered if he was having another episode. But he had no way to tell how much time had passed.

He groggily lifted his head, and squinted his eyes open. It was still night, but the fire had died down to soft embers. Instead of the warm orange light of the flames, there was harsh red. He gazed around, finding deep red lanterns at the edge of the clearing, forming a circle. They blinked every so often, the red seeping into the sky.

 _What..._ is what he tried to say, but the words didn't come out. His tongue felt like cotton.

After several minutes of confusion, his eyes finally adjusted to his surroundings. His stomach dropped.

The other Guardians were bound against the trees, their eyes wide and frantic. Their arms were tied behind them, mouths gagged. Save for Groot, who was trapped in a small glass cage. His little hands beat pointlessly against his prison walls.

He looked up to find his hands bound tightly above him. His feet barely touched the ground. The strain was agonizing.

"Did you have a nice nap?" Czar-Doon came from the shadows, his voice a hint deeper. His yellow eyes glowed menacingly.

"Wha... what is this?" Peter ground out, finally finding his voice. His head pounded with every pulse of red light.

"We are simply here to retrieve our precious artifact." He walked over to Gamora, and took her face in his sinewy hand. "I am sure Thanos will pay a hefty price for the return of his estranged daughter." He gripped her cheeks. Hard. She struggled against him to no avail, the gag blocking her teeth from biting down on his scaly hand. Complete and utter rage surged in Peter.

"We've already sent out a signal." He continued, motioning to the circle of red lanterns. "It's only a matter of time until he comes for her. Then we can dispose of you _Guardians as we please." He spat, tossing her face from his hand. Her eyes gleamed murderously._

"How...?" Oh how Peter wished his mouth would catch up to his brain.

"How did we find you?" He turned to the Terran. "Very good question. We've been tracking you for some time. We heard rumor of traitors to the Sovereign, so we investigated. As it turns out, it was dear young Quill and his dashing team of Guardians. We knew you associated yourself with that traitor," he jerked his head towards Gamora, "and we supposed that our master would appreciate having his daughter back. A most cherished act of loyalty."

"No..." Peter couldn't keep his eyes open. The familiar feeling of pain and exhaustion threatening to overcome him. His wounds smarted, and his chest began to ache. What wonderful timing.

"It is funny to me that you trusted us so willingly," Czar-Doon circled the tree Peter was bound to. "Yondu was always your weakness."

Peter's eyes flashed, "You don't get to talk about Yondu." He growled, momentarily finding his voice.

"Why not?" The traitor's eyes flashed with glee. "He was a criminal, a filthy liar, and a killer. He was no better than Ronan himself."

"Shut up."

"I left the Ravagers to pursue a higher plain of existence. One that was promised to me by Thanos. Yondu refused to see the light. He was too consumed by his love for _you."_ Rage burst through his tone. "He cast me out, into nothing. I had _nothing."_

L'Matto, Drang, and Droom came out of the trees.

Czar-Doon continued. "I figured I'd repay the debt. Let him roll around in his grave over his beloved _son."_

He motioned with his head to his crew. "Do it," he commanded.

Peter could do nothing as fists rained down on him.


	9. Chapter 9

Gamora opened her eyes. She was horrified at what she found.

Red light cast deep shadows over the campsite, flickering ominously. She struggled to stand, only to find herself tightly bound against a tree, her arms at her sides. She pushed her tongue against the ruddy gag in her mouth, and took in the rest of her surroundings.

At her side were the other Guardians, bound and gagged just like she, eyes wild and desperate for escape. Groot sat in a little glass cage, crying for release. She was relieved that none of them seemed to have been harmed.

They had been betrayed. Lied to. Drugged. Tied up. Who knew what else their so-called "friends" had in store for them.

But what terrified her beyond even that was the sight of Peter.

He was unconscious, his hands bound together and strung up high above him. He was separated from the rest of the team, across the dying embers of the fire. His mouth was free from the gag, but Gamora couldn't imagine that being a good thing.

She began to work her way out of her bonds, meeting eyes with Rocket. He nodded softly. He had a plan.

Meanwhile, Drax struggled uselessly against his bindings, grunting and twisting. Mantis stood silently, tears pooling in her dark eyes.

They all froze when they heard a groan come from across the campsite. Peter was waking up.

She watched as he slowly opened his eyes, trying to adjust his hanging body. The strain was obviously great, pain flashed on his face as he tried to speak.

Anger swelled within her as Czar-Doon appeared from the shadows. "Did you have a nice nap?" He asked Peter.

"Wha...what is this?" The injured Terran replied as best as he could. His eyes roving over the campsite.

"We are simply here to retrieve our precious artifact," the Badoon turned away from Peter, and walked towards Gamora. He grabbed her face with his clammy hand, "I am sure Thanos will pay a hefty price for the return of his estranged daughter." He squeezed his hand around her jaw. She grit her teeth in pain. She could see the rage flash on Peter's face, his hazel eyes glistening dangerously in the red light.

Czar-Doon spoke of a signal. Thanos's arrival was imminent. They only had a matter of time.

She listened intently as Peter and the traitor continued their conversation, but she pooled her energy into freeing herself.

She stilled herself when Czar-Doon's cronies stepped out from the woods.

"I figured I'd repay the debt. Let him roll around in his grave over his beloved son. Have a little bit of fun while we wait." The Badoon motioned to the others. They stepped forward eagerly, malice in their eyes. "Do it."

Gamora yelled against her gag as they began to wail on Peter. The sound of fists hitting flesh and muscle echoed in the clearing.

Peter tried to keep quiet. To not give them the satisfaction. He only made small grunts as they pummeled him. But when L'Matto brought a particularly fierce fist down onto his chest, he couldn't help but let out a pained cry.

This continued on for several minutes. Blood trailed down Peter's lip, his jaw was swollen. Bruises spotted his torso.

Gamora worked frantically at her bonds. She felt them slowly get looser, but it wasn't enough. She cursed inwardly at her weakness. Peter needed her.

Suddenly, the goons let up on their attack. L'Matto went behind the trees, as Drang and Droom cackled together at the sight of their bloodied hostage. After a few minutes of reveling at his pain, they too retreated into the woods.

Peter glared after them menacingly. He was so tired, the affects of his energy drain returning full force. But he'd faced worse beatings at the hands of the Ravagers. He wasn't out for the fight. Yet.

He glanced over to his friends, noting their horrified expressions at his treatment. He forced a wan smile, "I'm okay guys," he slurred, "Used to get the shit kicked outta me all the time. 'S nothing."

"I am Groot!" the little tree yelled from his glass cage.

"I'm okay! Really. My other... problem I guess - it's not that bad. At least not right now." Gamora could tell he was lying through his teeth. She could see the exhaustion lining his face, the subtle trembling as he tried to stay awake through his episode. She wanted to shake him and tell him to just _go to sleep and let them figure it out this time._

The Badoon's returned from the trees with Czar-Doon, who was wielding a strange rod. He tapped it against his palm, walking slowly in front of Peter.

"You have great will, boy. Although I'd love more than anything to kill you right now, I'd much rather like to witness Thanos break you with my own two eyes." He grinned. Gamora wanted to rip his mouth from his scaly face and shove it up his ass. "But now it's my turn for some fun."

Czar-Doon pushed something on his device, and it burst into life, blue electricity dancing around. Peter's eyes widened in fear, but he quickly schooled himself. He set his jaw defiantly. Gamora wanted to scream. The alien stepped forward, and pressed the rod into Peter's ribs.

Peter's head snapped back, and his body quaked as the electricity surged in him. He couldn't even make a sound, his mouth opened wordlessly as his eyes rolled in his sockets.

Only a few seconds passed, but to Gamora it felt like eternity.

Czar-Doon pulled the rod back, and Peter slumped forward, gasping for air.

The Guardians were thrashing against their bonds, Rocket notably spitting profanities behind his gag. A surge of angry power surged through Gamora, and she felt her bonds loosen considerably. But it still wasn't enough.

"How does that feel?" Czar-Doon lifted Peter's head with his fingers.

The human held onto consciousness by a thread, but the rage was still hugely apparent. He glared, and spit out a large glob of blood into Czar-Doon's face.

"Not as good as that felt." He said, voice quiet, but resolute. The corner of his lips twisted into a smile.

Czar-Doon snarled, and immediately brought the rod back down onto Peter, directly over his heart.

Gamora felt tears stream down her face as Peter fell victim to the electricity once more. This round lasted much longer than the last. Choked noises came from Peter's mouth as he trembled, his veins protruding under his skin. Only the whites of his eyes could be seen as he convulsed in agony.

When the bastard finally pulled the rod away, Peter's head fell against his collar bone. He didn't raise it again.

It was lucky for them that at the exact moment the Badoons stood laughing at their fallen leader, a certain halfworld creature made his move.

Rocket pushed the rope away from himself and scampered up the trees. Gamora glanced up at him, eyes wet with tears. He gave her a curt nod, motioning towards their discarded weapons sitting near the edge of the trees.

She felt her bonds loosen and slide away from her body. They would have to move fast.

They moved in a blur. Rocket leapt down from the trees, grabbing one of Drax's daggers and throwing it to Gamora. She caught it and brought it down in one swift motion, cutting Drax's bonds. He burst away from the tree, ripping the gag from his mouth.

"You will pay for what you have done!" He yelled, running towards the stunned Badoons, empty handed but angrier than ever. He tackled L'Matto to the ground, ripping the blaster from his hands and pummeling him to the ground.

Rocket raised his gun. It expanded and revved with pure energy. He didn't hesitate to shoot Drang, and then Droom, killing them both instantly.

Meanwhile, Gamora turned towards Mantis, cutting the young girl free.

"Get Groot and Peter!" Gamora shouted over the chaos. She turned, flipping the blade in her hand. And headed straight for Czar-Doon.

The adversary stood, eyes frantic as he witnessed his cronies falling before him. He whipped around, pointing a gun directly at Peter's head.

"Move and he dies," he pressed the weapon against Peter's temple.

Gamora froze. She took in the sight of her friend. He was so pale, his head slumped forward. The places where Czar-Doon had zapped him burned holes through his shirt, and left blistering entry wounds on his skin. Some of his previous wounds had re-opened. Blood dripped slowly onto the hard ground.

"You let us go, and we'll kill you quickly," Gamora threatened.

"I don't believe you are in a position to be threatening me, dear girl," Czar-Doon smiled. But Gamora could detect the slight tremors in his frame, the way his eyes flitted about, desperate for escape.

He knew he was outnumbered, and he was terrified.

She wasted no time.

She threw her dagger, hitting him square in his shoulder. She would have hit him directly in the heart, but she restrained herself. She wanted him to suffer.

She paced forward to where he lay on the ground, hands grasping the handle in his shoulder. His eyes widened as she leaned over him. She squeezed the knife and twisted it into his flesh. He wheezed in pain. "I gave you an opportunity," she spat, grabbing his face in her hand, "Too bad you didn't take it." She took the blade out and ran it straight through his middle, pinning him to the ground.

"Get comfortable." She said conversationally, "You'll be choking on your blood soon enough." She pushed away from him, sending the blade deeper into his stomach. It would take awhile for him to succumb to his injuries. She smiled at the thought.

"Gamora!" She turned at Rocket's panicked voice. Drax was cutting Peter free from his bonds. The unconscious Terran slumped forward into the Destroyer's arms.

"We must flee the area. Thanos's henchmen will arrive soon," he said. He hoisted Peter up gently, as a father would carry a sleeping child.

"Is he going to be okay?" Gamora couldn't hide the fear creeping into her voice.

Mantis stepped forward, Groot safely on her shoulder. She reached her hand up to Peter's forehead. Her antennae glowed as she closed her eyes.

"He is in great pain. But I do not sense any fear. His body is simply trying to mend." She said, her eyes sad yet hopeful.

"We must go," Drax said again, more urgently this time. Peter's head bobbed against his shoulder.

They melted into the shadows and ran.


	10. Chapter 10

Rocket was getting sick and tired of running. He was sick and tired of the heat. The humidity. This entire gorram backwater planet and its inhabitants.

He was also sick and tired of his friend being so sick and tired.

He glanced up at Peter, who lay unconscious over Drax's shoulder. He was pale. Smatterings of dried blood painted his shirt. If he were conscious, Rocket would worry that the running would injure him further. But it seemed Peter was completely out for the count. Still not a great situation.

They ran as far as their lungs could take them.

What rotten luck, Rocket thought. Stuck in a forest, still under the obligation to complete their mission. While taking care of a sick and beaten Terran. Oh, and they also had evade the world war raging just a few miles away.

At least they got rid of their traitorous captors. Rocket made sure to release a load of pulsing flames into each of their corpses before he left. Well, except for Czar-Doon. He deserved a slow and painful death.

Rocket smirked a bit at the thought.

Drax slowed his sprint into a jog, and stopped altogether. "Wait," he mumbled, gently lowering Peter onto the moist forest floor. "His heart rate is too high."

"What?" It didn't take long for Gamora to catch her breath. She stepped forward, worry creasing her brow.

"His heart is beating too fast. He is distressed," Drax placed his large hand over Peter's chest.

Gamora knelt down next to him, laying a hand on his forehead. "He's warm," she grit her teeth. "Mantis, can you wake him up?"

The empath nodded and moved forward, trading places with Gamora. She put her pale hands on either side of Peter's face. Her attenae glowed, "Wake," she softly commanded.

He gasped awake, sitting straight up and nearly knocking poor Mantis in the nose. He breathed in rapidly, his hand clutching desperately at his chest.

"It's okay! It's okay," Gamora pressed against his shoulder, willing him to lay back down.

"What... what happened?" His eyes were glossy and confused. He winced, trying to shift into a more comfortable position.

"Those 'friends' of yours, Quill? Yeah, they tortured ya. Electrocution and all the good stuff. While we had to sit there and watch." Rocket growled. Fear and anger rose up within him. He hated those feelings. "That ring a bell, ya d'ast idiot?"

Gamora shot him a look, but quickly turned her attention back to Peter, who's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His eyes seemed to clear as he took in his surroundings. They watched as the realization dawned on him.

"Gamora!" He bolted up again, eyes wide and fearful. "Are you okay?" His eyes scanned her body up and down for any trace of injuries. He reached a shaking hand up to her face. Fingerprint sized bruises lined her jaw. He brushed tender fingers over them, cupping her face.

"I'm fine, Peter," she placed her hand over his, a small smile found its way to her lips. "We need to worry about you now. You're hurt."

He grunted as he lowered himself onto his forearms. "It's not that bad. I've been electrocuted before," he glanced at his friends. "You guys were there. Remember the Kyln? Those aftershocks lasted a good ten minutes." He turned to Rocket, "and you, ya little shit. You shocked the hell outta me that same day!"

Rocket shrugged. "Worth it. Would do it again if I had the chance." He smirked.

Peter rolled his eyes, and moved to stand.

"What do you think you're doing?" Gamora pressed down on his shoulder.

"Uh, getting up? We gotta move, we don't have a lot of time." He gently moved her hand away.

"No no no. No." She set her jaw. "You're hurt and you have a fever. We rest. Here. Make camp for the night. You're in no condition to travel right now." Peter opened his mouth, "No arguing."

Drax nodded beside her, folding his arms.

"I am Groot!" Groot exclaimed, climbing down Mantis's shoulder to stand beside Peter. The half-Celestial booped the little sapling in the stomach. "Hey there buddy. Glad to see you're okay."

"I am Groot."

"I'm fine. I probably sound like a broken record. But I really am fine. Just a bit sore." That was the understatement of the century. But he smiled anyway.

"Mantis, come help me gather food and water," Gamora said, turning into the woods, "You boys set up camp and dress Peter's burns. And make sure he doesn't kill himself." She disappeared into the brush, Mantis at her tail.

"Hey, I don't need babysitters!" Peter called, uselessly. He sagged to the ground in defeat. Or was it because of the pain? Whatever. Pain was such a constant these past few days anyway. He was starting to get used to it.

"Gamora was right," Drax said, arms crossed.

"About what?"

"You. Deflecting." The Destroyer sat down next to Peter, helping him move into a more comfortable position against a log. Drax pushed his shirt up and carefully poured water over his burns. He dabbed at them with a cloth, before lightly rubbing ointment over them. Peter couldn't help the low groan that slipped from his throat as the cream stung his flesh.

"You think you can hide your agonies behind humor," Drax continued, placing a cool strip of gauze over the wounds, "You are the only one of us who is loathe to speak of your past. Why?" His voice wasn't accusatory. It was kind. And concerned.

"Yeah, Quill." Rocket intoned as he rummaged through packs, pulling out blankets and the little food they had left. "We all have had some pretty sucky things happen to us, and we all talk about it. But anytime anything personal about you comes up, you make a joke outta it."

Peter shifted, gritting his teeth when it tugged on his tender skin. He wanted to tell them that he hated when people worried over him. Because he remembered worrying over his mother when she was sick. He hated that feeling. He hated the fear it brought. The sleepless nights. He didn't want his friends to ever feel that way. Especially about him. So he laughed it off. He wanted his family to be happy, so he pretended to be okay. It was a small price to pay.

He wanted to say those things, but he didn't. That didn't make what he was about to say any easier. "It's because my past isn't even half as bad as what you guys have gone through." He said, "I don't wanna bitch and moan about all my problems when you guys have had it ten times worse." They stared at him, waiting for an explanation.

He sighed, "Examples? Okay. You were taken apart and reassembled, Rocket. Like some science experiment. Drax lost his entire family. Mantis was taken from her parents by my asshole of a father. She watched all his other kids die. Gamora's world was decimated and she was kidnapped by one of the worst people in the universe. And Groot freaking died! So yeah, I don't think my _problems_ quite measure up." He folded his arms over his chest, careful to avoid the burns, and stared ahead at the trees.

"Who the hell are you kidding, Quill?" Rocket stood up, anger flashing in his dark eyes, "You've had it plenty bad. You were kidnapped by crazy space pirates! Beaten and forced to steal for them. They threatened to eat you! You also experienced the full power of an Infinity Stone. I only got the tail end of that thing, and it hurt like shit!" He was practically yelling, "Your blood father happened to be some wacko planet god thing. He tried to use you! Drain you of life so he could fulfill some 'higher purpose' shtick. And his other kids? Yeah, those were your siblings." He waved his arms about as if to emphasize his point. "Then that whole thing with the Ravagers. And Yondu." He didn't say more. He didn't need to.

A quiet moment settled over the men. Drax paused his careful ministrations on Peter, and Groot drooped his head sadly. Rocket scratched his head, debating whether or not to go on.

"I know what he did to your mother," Rocket whispered. Peter paled, "I heard you talkin' to Gamora. Enhanced hearing and all that." He pointed to his ears.

"I-"

"So don't tell me you ain't had nothin' bad. You've had plenty a' bad. Hell, you got a whole lotta bad happenin' to you right now, bein' tortured and all that weird stuff with you bleeding and passin' out." Rocket sat on his rear with a huff. "And this shouldn't be some competition to see who's got the crappiest life. We're family now. So all your problems? They're ours too."

Rocket grabbed a handful of blankets and stalked away, leaving a very astonished Peter in his wake.

"We care about you, Quill." Drax said, finishing up his work and pulling Peter's shirt back down. He placed a sturdy hand on Peter's shoulder. "I would speak of all my hardships, big or small, to my love. Hovat. She knew exactly how to help." He glanced to the trees, "Perhaps Gamora can be your Hovat. Unless of course, you would like me to be your Hovat. I am an excellent listener."

"Thanks Drax," Peter forced a smile, a million thoughts running through his head.

"It does get easier with time. You see them in the people who surround you. Sometimes you remind me of my Kamaria. She was always moving. Always so happy and full of life." His blue eyes glistened, "We all want you to be happy, Quill. " Drax stood up. "I should go help the panda set up camp. You rest."

Peter let his head fall against the tree, closing his eyes. He felt dizzy and overwhelmed.

Groot climbed up Peter's arm, careful to avoid the scratches and bruises through his long sleeved shirt.

"I am Groot?"

"I'm not sad. I'm just... a bit lost I guess." Peter sighed, "I've never really had a conventional family. Not to say that ours is. I guess I'm just not used to have people openly care like you guys do."

Groot nodded solemly, and reached his little arms around Peter's neck in some semblance of a hug.

Warmth surged in his chest, and he cupped his hand around the little wooden body, "Thank you Groot."

It was strange to think that in just a few short months, the Guardians had become such a huge part of him. Drax's words echoed in his head. They wanted him to be happy too. Even at their own expense. Funny. Love went both ways. Maybe he could stand to be a little more open. He couldn't help but smile.

He held Groot against him until the sapling fell asleep. He let his thoughts wander as he watched Drax and Rocket work. He wished he could help. But he felt like any movement would just destroy him at the moment, so he just sat there. It wasn't long until drowsiness overcame him.

The center of his chest throbbed as he fell asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

The day passed quickly. Gamora and Mantis returned from the jungle with bags full of strange fruits and canteens full of fresh water. Drax and Rocket had finished setting up camp while Peter and Groot dozed.

"How is he?" Gamora asked, kneeling down next to the sleeping Terran.

"Fever's the same. He was awake about an hour ago. Seemed to be fine otherwise." Rocket said, absently picking seeds out of a vibrant green fruit.

"What do you think is causing the fever?"

"I don't know," Rocket set the fruit down, walking over to them. Peter's face was drawn taut, slight shivers coursing down him. Sweat beaded his forehead. "Electrocution don't cause fevers."

Gamora frowned. She rested her hand on Peter's cheek. He leaned into the touch.

"What's going on with you, Peter?" She whispered, running her hand through his damp curls.

Peter stirred, cupping his hand around Groot, who snored softly on his shoulder. "Hey guys," he slurred, blinking blearily. "Wha's up?"

"How are you feeling?"

"Same," he grimaced as he tried sitting up, placing a hand at his chest, "I'm cold. And it feels like someone took a sledgehammer to my sternum."

Gamora furrowed her brows, pulling down Peter's shirt at the collar. He couldn't hide the blush that crept to his face as she ran tender fingers over his skin. "There's no bruising here." She pushed her fingers over the spot, "Does this hurt?" She asked.

"No, not really. It feels more like it's coming from... inside," he frowned.

"That doesn't sound good," Rocket said, scooping up a handful of fruits. He tossed one to Peter, who accepted it graciously.

"It's probably just from the electricity," he waved it off, the hard stares of his team making him uncomfortable. A gust of wind blew through the trees, and he shivered, "Anyone got any blankets? It's freezing."

"You're _cold?"_ Rocket balked, "It's a bajillion degrees!"

"You have a fever," Gamora said, "if anything we need to be keeping you cool."

"Great," Peter said dryly, curling into himself. trying to run warmth into his frozen limbs.

Gamora turned away, grabbing Rocket and pulling him towards the edge of the trees. "We need to get out of here," she said, voice dark.

"What about the mission?" Rocket asked.

"Screw the mission, Peter's sick," she glanced back at Peter, her heart dropping at the sight of his quaking body, his pale skin, his pained expression. "Something's really wrong with him. We have to figure a way off this planet and get him to Xandar."

"How are we supposed to do that?" The Racoon studied her with his dark eyes.

"I don't know," she sighed, exasperated. "Those Badoon, they have a ship here somewhere I'm sure, maybe we can go looking for it. It can't be too far."

"Won't that be one of the first places Thanos's goonies go looking?"

Gamora grit her teeth, "You're right." She wrung her hands, "What are we supposed to do?" For once in her life, the assasin was at a complete loss.

"Gamora!" Mantis shouted from her place by the campfire. The pair whipped around, meeting Drax and Mantis's panicked faces.

"What's wrong?" Gamora said, racing to Peter's side. The human's face was twisted in agony, his hands clenched at his side. His eyes were squeezed tight and he was breathing heavily.

"Peter, what's wrong?" Gamora grabbed his face in her hands. He cracked his eyes open, revealing fever glazed irises.

"Hurts." He gasped.

"What, what hurts?!" Gamora snapped her head up to Drax and Mantis, demanding an answer.

"I don't know what happened, one moment he was fine, then all of the sudden-" Mantis tried explaining, her hands shaking.

"His chest," Rocket surmised, locking eyes with Gamora for a brief second before dipping his head over Peter's chest. "His heartbeat is outta control." Rocket said, spiking Gamora's worry even further.

"Peter, please, you have to talk to me," Gamora implored, "What's wrong??" She pressed a hand against his shoulder as he writhed.

"It hurts!" He repeated, gripping her wrist, "Get it out." He whispered, "Please."

"Get what out??" Her voice was frantic, and she searched the gazes of the others, who looked even more confused than she.

"Get it out!" He slammed the back of his head against the tree, "Please, 'Mora." His glossy eyes were desperate.

"Mantis," Gamora said, locking eyes with the younger woman. Mantis nodded, moving to kneel as Drax pulled Peter away from the tree and laid him carefully on the ground. Mantis situated herself at Peter's head, before placing her delicate hands at his temples.

Mantis gasped, her face squeezing tight as she sought out Peter's mind.

"He is in pain," she breathed, "so much pain."

Gamora grabbed Peter's hand. He gripped her fingers so tightly she could feel her bones grinding against each other.

"Please," he begged again.

"It feels..." Mantis buckled under the strain, "It feels like something is trying to escape," Tears streamed down the empath's face as she looked up at Gamora, "He... he feels like Ego!"

"Get it OUT!" Peter yelled, and Mantis pulled her hands away as if she were burned. Drax pulled her into his arms as she sobbed.

"Please!" Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as he thrashed on the ground. His free hand clawed at his chest, pulling at his shirt.

Rocket reached up with both hands, pulling Peter's arm to the ground at his side, "Dammit, Quill! You gotta stay still!" He yelled.

"Peter!" Gamora's heart was about to burst from her ribcage. She grabbed Peter's face again, forcing him to look at her. "Look at me. Look at me!"

His movements stilled, and his hazel eyes met her brown ones, "Gamora?" His voice was faint.

Then his eyes widened, and he _screamed._

A force knocked the Guardians up and away from Peter, sending them sprawling out on the forest floor.

Wind whipped around them, sending leaves and dirt up into the air. Blue light burst into the night sky, vibrant and deadly and beautiful.

It took Gamora a moment to realize that the light was coming from Peter.

She ran towards him, and froze when she saw the beam of light surging from his chest. She crashed down beside him. His mouth was wide open in a silent scream, hands clenched. But what made Gamora's heart jump to her throat were his eyes.

They glowed that same terrible blue.

"PETER!" She yelled, voice faint in the harsh winds.

"It's Ego's light!" Mantis shouted, "It's trying to leave him!"

 _No!_ Gamora reached her hands out towards Peter's chest, as if she could stop the light from shredding through his body.

"Don't!" Rocket appeared, slapping her hands away, "I saw what Ego did to him, this has to happen!"

Several minutes passed in what felt like an eternity, as Peter's body drained what Celestial light he had left.

Then it was done.

The winds ceased and the light was gone.

Gamora nearly fell on top of Peter, hands running over his body for any sign of life.

His eyes were closed, his face slack.

She brought her fingers to his neck, relishing in the faint _thump thump_ she felt. His heartbeat was thready and weak, but it was there.

"What the hell was that?" She was trembling.

Rocket knelt beside Peter, laying a paw on his pale forehead, "Ego told Peter the light would leave him if we killed him. Guess he meant it literally."

Drax and Mantis stepped forward, the former holding Mantis close.

"I am Groot?" The sapling asked, his little face was twisted in sadness.

"I don't know," Rocket sighed, running a paw down his face.

"Peter?" Gamora ventured, one hand on his chest and the other at his cheek. "Peter, please wake up."

Nothing.

She sighed, sitting back on her knees.

She pulled her hand away from his chest and gasped.

Crimson stained her palm.

Blossoming from the center of Peter's chest, right where the light left his body, bright red blood began to seep through his shirt.


End file.
